


By Any Other Name

by youjik33



Category: Silicon Valley (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, M/M, Soulmate-Identifying Marks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-22
Updated: 2015-11-22
Packaged: 2018-05-02 20:02:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 987
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5261618
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/youjik33/pseuds/youjik33
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Erlich is the last person in the house to find out Jared's name isn't actually Jared, and he isn't exactly thrilled about it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	By Any Other Name

**Author's Note:**

> I don't usually do AUs and I've never written one and, frankly, I don't really know how the soulmark thing usually works in fics, but I got this idea and just had to write it.
> 
> (Takes place sort of nebulously between seasons 1 and 2. If you're curious, Jared's TechCrunch Disrupt name tag did say "Jared" on it. I checked.)

"Junk for Gilfoyle, junk for Erlich, junk for me," Dinesh said, sorting through the mail he'd just brought in. "Something that might actually not be junk for Richard; it looks like it's from his mom. Where is Richard?"

"In the kitchen," Gilfoyle said, not looking up from his video game. "He and Jared are having a meeting. Business shit. Numbers, accounts, whatever the fuck it is Jared's actually in charge of."

"Oh!" Dinesh said. "A Capitol One credit card application, addressed to Donald Dunn! Even Jared is getting junk mail here now, that's amazing. I should tell him, he's going to be so happy to be included."

"Wait a minute." Erlich looked up from the issue of _Wired_ he'd been thumbing through. "Donald Dunn? Are you telling me Jared's name isn't Jared?"

"Nope," Gilfoyle said. "Huh, did you not get that memo?"

"Apparently not," Erlich said. His hand went to the inside of his left wrist, reflexively, and he pulled it back hoping no one else had noticed. "Well, fuck." He dropped the magazine, grabbed the envelope from Dinesh, and looked at the name on it. "I'll take this," he said, sweeping out of the room.

Erlich remembered the shitty ancient film strip they'd shown in fifth grade health class – _For many, meeting one's soulmate brings on intense emotions that are confusing or uncomfortable. These feelings can be misinterpreted as irritation or even hate._ He'd always thought that was ridiculous, that if or when he met his soulmate he'd be smart enough to realize it. But now he remembered that stab of intense irritation he'd felt when he'd seen Jared standing on his doorstep that first time, and he wasn't so sure.

He pushed the kitchen door open harder than he'd meant, slamming it against the wall, and Richard and Jared both jumped in their seats.

"Jared," Erlich said, eyes narrowing. "If that  _is_ your real name."

"...it isn't," Jared said, forehead wrinkling in confusion. "Uh, that's not exactly a secret."

"We need to talk. In private. Now."

"You'd better go and get it over with," Richard said. "Otherwise he'll just keep bothering us."

"Okay. I'll be right back. I think."

Erlich lead Jared into his room, shut the door behind them, and sat down heavily in his desk chair. Jared just stood there awkwardly – the way he did everything – and waited.

Erlich sighed, and held out the mail. "This is for you."

"Oh," Jared said, taking it. "Um, thank you. Though it seems to be junk mail."

"Yeah. Junk mail addressed to  _Donald_ Dunn." 

"Which is my name. Yes. Were you not already aware of that?"

"I most certainly was not. What else are you hiding?"

"Erlich, honestly, what is this about? I'm not trying to hide my identity. In fact if everyone wanted to start calling me by my real name, that would be fantastic. It's true that I've gotten used to 'Jared', and if that's easier for everyone, there's no need to force yourselves to-"

"Jared, shut up," Erlich said. "Let me just show you."

There were people out there who flaunted their soulmarks, or who advertised them – there was a whole Craigslist section devoted to people trying to find the person with the right name. There were people who hid them from the world, the way Gilfoyle had covered his with a tattoo; he didn't believe a person should be a puppet of destiny and chose to deliberately obscure it. Which was fine. Erlich was fairly agnostic about the whole thing, and he'd always kept his private. If he wasn't wearing long sleeves he generally covered it up with a sweatband. It wasn't that he was embarrassed, really; he'd kind of thought that his soulmate would end up being a quirky girl whose parents were really eccentric about naming conventions, but mostly he just didn't think it was worth worrying about.

When he pushed the sleeve of his sweater up and let Jared see the letters printed neatly across his skin,  _D-O-N-A-L-D_ , he felt oddly exposed. 

"Oh," Jared said softly. 

It seemed like ages before either of them moved, but then Jared carefully undid the button of his shirt cuff, rolled up his own sleeve. 

"What the fuck," Erlich said, unable to take his eyes away from the letters spelling out his own name, dark against Jared's pale skin. "Why didn't you say something?"

"I didn't want to assume," Jared said. He shifted his weight from one foot to the other, apparently unable to look at Erlich directly. His face was flushed pink. 

"Seriously, how many Erlichs do you think there are in the world?"

"Probably more than one?" Jared ventured. "Anyway, you didn't seem to like me very much."

"Well, that's fair." Erlich sighed again, crossing his arms across his chest. "Well, now what do we do?"

"I don't know. We... don't have to tell anyone, if you don't want to. Not until we're sure."

Erlich thought about the Jared – Donald – whatever -- he'd seen so far. This was a man who'd walked away from a high-paying job at one of the most profitable companies on the planet to throw himself at a tiny startup with barely a hope for survival, a man who didn't seem to care what kinds of things anyone said about him, who bent over backwards to help others and yet was strong enough to survive being trapped in a shipping container for four days mostly unscathed.

If he had to be honest with himself, Erlich realized he hadn't actually hated Jared in a long time.

"Can I take you to dinner tomorrow night?" he asked. "Just you and me. If the guys want to tease us about going on a date, well, fuck 'em."

"Okay," Jared said. His eyes finally met Erlich's and there was something bright in them, something like hope. He smiled, and Erlich, his fingers brushing across the letters on his own wrist, smiled back.

 


End file.
